


He's Gone

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Genciotober [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Death, Established Relationship, Grave, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Genji was gone, but the memories, the little pieces of himself that he had left in their home remained, and Lùcio couldn’t bring himself to face them any more than he could face the thought of moving forward.





	He's Gone

   Lúcio hesitated outside the briefing room, his hand beginning to tremble as he reached for the handle only to falter as he heard the quiet voices inside. He could only just make out the words, realising that the briefing hadn’t started and that they were waiting for him… that they were waiting for him to take the step that he wasn’t sure that he was ready to make. Opening the door and stepping inside, meant acknowledging that life continued, that the world and the war were still out there waiting for him. That nothing had changed, even though everything had changed, and his breath caught as a sob bubbled up, held at bay through desperation alone.

_As though Genji was still here._

“A-Athena,” he whispered when he managed to coax his voice into working, pulling his hand away from the handle as he shrank back from the door, retreating before the prospect of moving forward…of accepting that G…that, he was gone.  “I…please tell them…”

“Agent Oxton said that she would forward the details if you were unable to attend,” Athena replied softly, and he looked down. _So, Lena knew I wasn’t ready?_ Somehow, he wasn’t surprised, and although shame coloured his thoughts, he was too relieved at the reprieve and with a mumbled ‘thank you’ he turned and fled down the corridor, unaware of how his teammates, his friends…his family, shared pained looks within the briefing room as Athena relayed what had happened.

*

    Initially, he had been heading towards their…his room, but as he turned the corridor he found his steps faltering until he came to a halt.

He couldn’t.

   The small room, large by Watchpoint standards had been there home, a messy accumulation of their belongings, two lives coming together as one, and the four walls had become his world, filled with the memories they had made together. The evenings where Genji had laid with his head in his lap, listening as he experimented with new music, or more often than not distracting him with sneaky kisses and teasing touches. The mornings waking curled against him, seeing the scarred features completely relaxed, laughing at the way Genji would sleep, mouth wide open whenever he rolled onto his back. The bad nights were memories and nightmares kept one of them awake, and the other was always there with soothing words and gentle touches, grounding them in the here and now. And the rare days when duty didn’t call, and they could lie around, cautiously letting themselves dream and talk about a future that felt a little bit closer when they were together.

    Genji was gone, but the memories, the little pieces of himself that he had left in their home remained, and Lúcio couldn’t bring himself to face them any more than he could face the thought of moving forward.

He fled.

    Yet it seemed as though there was nowhere for him to go, no refuge that was safe from the memories they had made together. The Watchpoint had been their home, the one place in the world where they were safe from the war lapping at the edges of their lives, the one place where Genji hadn’t had to worry about the remnants of the Shimada clan trying to reach out to him. The place where he had been able to be just Lùcio, not an internationally renowned DJ, or the rebel that people still looked to even though that fight had ended.

The one place they had been free to be themselves…together.

    The sob that had threatened to bubble up outside the briefing room returned with a vengeance, and he sped up, not wanting anyone to witness the shattering that he could feel coming. It was too late, a broken noise slipping out as he broke into a run, consumed by the need to get away, to escape from everything, and it was followed by another sob and then another, dampness seeping down his face as he stumbled turning the corner. He would have fallen if hands hadn’t grasped the top of his arms, steadying him and holding him upright as he began to struggle, ducking his head to try and hide the tears on his cheeks.

“Lùcio?” He froze at the familiar voice, no longer struggling but unable to bring himself to look up, even as the warm fingers squeezed lightly. _Hanzo…_ The one person that felt the loss even more keenly that he did, and the one person he had been carefully avoiding for the last few weeks, unable to bear the thought of facing of him. Of speaking to someone that might just understand, something that he wasn’t ready to hear just yet, not when it was still so raw and ugly, still churning in his chest, stealing his breath with every moment that passed. “Lùcio, this…”

“Don’t…” Lúcio didn’t even recognise his own voice, and he flinched when Hanzo’s grip tightened before the archer sighed and stepped back.

“You should go and talk to him.” His head shot up at those words, mouth open a protest forming, anger and grief bubbling up. However, the words died before he could say anything, because while Hanzo had sounded as calm and collected as ever, his face told a different story, eyes framed by deep shadows that matched his and there was a rawness in the dark gaze that was a little too close to comfort and his mouth slowly closed. “It helped me, it might help you.”  Perhaps it was because it wasn’t a meaningless platitude, or because Hanzo wasn't trying to tell him that he understood or that Lúcio needed to start moving forward, he wasn’t sure, but he found himself nodding as he finally managed to find his voice.

“Thank you…”

    It was for far more than the advice, and he hoped that the other man understood that because he didn’t have the words to explain. The tight smile, little more than a quirk of a lip, that reminded him far too much of Genji when his partner had indulged his sarcastic side, and he swallowed thickly, the burning in his eyes returning with fresh intensity. This time when he turned to leave Hanzo let him go, but even as he moved away, for the first time in weeks, Lúcio felt as though maybe he wasn’t as alone as he’d believed.

*

     It was warm outside, the Watchpoint basking in the early summer sunshine and Lúcio halted for a second, tilting his face towards the sun and closing his eyes.

_The evening was warm, the sun only just beginning to disappear beneath the horizon and Lúcio paused to admire the colours being painted across the sky. It was a beautiful sight, and a reminder that not everything in the world was hinged on the war they were fighting, on the battle won and lost on their actions, something that he needed after the past few weeks, and he felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The only thing that would make it better was if Genji was up on the tower with him to enjoy the view, but his boyfriend had been away for nearly three weeks now on a mission that had been supposed to be a week at most. He sighed, amusement fading as he leant back, spying the single star now visible amongst the oranges and reds stretching across the sky above him._

_Please, bring him back soon._

_“There you are.” Lúcio yelped at the sudden voice, losing his balance and toppling onto his back just as he heard soft footsteps drawing closer, and he blinked as his vision of the sky was abruptly obscured with a much better view. Genji leant over him, maskless as he often was these days and making no effort to his amusement, a warm chuckle that was a balm after the aching loneliness of the last few weeks escaping as he held out a hand._

_Lúcio let himself be pulled up, before twisting and wrapping his arms around Genji, knowing that he was clinging a little too hard but unable to bring himself to care. “You came home,” the words and the fear behind them crept out, and he felt more than he heard his partner sigh as Genji returned the tight hug._

_“Always.”_

“Always,”Lúciowhispered, bitterness colouring his words as he opened his eyes, glancing up towards the communication tower where they had spent far too many nights. Another place that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to set foot in since Genji… He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the past, turning and slowly heading towards the small path that led around the back of the base and out onto the cliffs that faced out into the open ocean.

A path that he hadn’t dared to take since Genji’s funeral.

    Even this place wasn’t without memories, as Genji had led him down this very path, finally catching up with him after months of the two of them dancing around each other and the thing blossoming between them.

 _“Impatient”,_ _Hanzo had muttered with a chuckle when Genji had all but snatched him away from the discussion in the kitchen that night. He hadn’t known where they were going, or what was going to be said – but he could remember with perfect clarity the feeling of Genji’s hand in his, the tiniest tremor betraying his nerves._

    There was no hand in his this time, no arm creeping around his shoulders as he stumbled on the path and he faltered. _I can’t do this._

_“Come on,” Genji paused too, finally turning to look at him as he realised thatLúciowas done with being pulled along behind him. There was an expression that Lúcio had never seen before on his face, and it took him a moment of studying the other man to realise that he was nervous. That realisation did little to help his own nerves, and he pulled back, trying to free his hand, but Genji tightened his grip, meeting his gaze head on and Lúcio froze, caught by the level of emotion in the eyes that had been the first thing he had fallen for. “Please, you trust me, don’t you?” There was a flash of his usual confidence then, but it didn’t hide the note of pleading in his voice, andLúciofound himself nodding, letting himself be pulled forward one step then another._

    There was no plea this time, no hand in his, and yetLúciofound himself moving forward again, lifting a hand to swipe at his cheeks. He had trusted Genji that night, even though he had been afraid that he was about to be told that his attraction, that his feelings were one-sided…how wrong he had been. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he choked back a sob as he realised that even now Genji was able to make him smile. It was enough to keep his feet moving, even though his heart was hammering in his chest, reluctance slowing each step but not enough to make him stop, as he followed the meandering path along the top of the cliffs.

   He spied the tree first, its leaves glowing in the sunshine as its branches moved with the breeze coming off the sea. It had been planted years ago, back when the Watchpoint had first been established, a celebration of the opening and of Overwatch’s continued growth…now it had become a guardian, watching over Genji and waiting for anyone else who would fall in this war.

_The trunk of the tree pressed into his back, and he had a feeling that he would have the bark imprinted into his skin when they were done, not that he was complaining as Genji trailed kisses down the curve of his throat. This hadn’t been what he was expecting when he had been led out here, and even now he could feel his cheeks burning, and warmth in his chest as he thought about Genji’s clumsy, heartfelt declaration that had cut through all his own doubts. His fingers curled deeper into the material of Genji’s hoodie, pulling him closer, smiling as Genji followed, pressing into him as he worked his way back up, kissing him soundly._

     _How much would the tree have seen by the end of this war? How many people would it be watching over?_ He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer to either question, but it was merely a delaying tactic, stopping his gaze from wandering to the real reason he was there. But, now that he had realised that it was inevitable, and he found his eyes slowly drawn to the simple white stone that marked Genji’s grave. It hurt, a sob building in the back of his throat as he took a shaky step towards it and then another – how could something so simple be all that remained of his partner?

    It wasn’t bare he realised as he drew closer, and the sob slipped out, followed by another as he came to a stumbling halt in front of the grave. What had been a plain, white stone that day, was now delicately carved, Genji’s name immortalised in stone and beneath it was a dragon – not the Shimada crest, but similar – the creature curled around the Overwatch symbol. It was beautiful in its own way, but seeing it, feeling it beneath his shaking fingers as he leant to trace it was too much.

“G-Genji…” His voice cracked and broke, and he fell, slumping to his knees as the barriers he’d been trying so hard to hide behind splintered and broke. The sobs that followed were ragged, wracking his entire body as he huddled in on himself, a discordant symphony to the low keening noise that he couldn’t hold back. He was shattering, coming apart at the seams, no longer able to distance himself from his grief or to deny the truth, and the keening swelled, rising until it became an anguished howl as the truth washed over him.

_He’s gone._

 


End file.
